


you told me that you fell in love with it, hadn’t gone as I planned.

by Justagaybean



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Beta Read, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Get ready you guys the angst train is leaving the station, Honeymoon, I’ve got a beta reader now but I still died like daichi, M/M, More Pining, Mutual Pining, Paris - Freeform, Pining, Post-Canon, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Therapy, Vacation AU, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, kind of?, lots of pining, or at least i hope it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justagaybean/pseuds/Justagaybean
Summary: This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Daichi was supposed to get married. To Michimiya Yui, who was supposed to be the love of his life. But Michimiya has left him at the altar, and Daichi can’t help but wonder if it’s all his fault.Daichi’s caught up in a spiral of guilt and unanswered questions, and he can’t find his way out. But Daichi’s friends decide that the best way to cheer him up is to take him on what was supposed to be the honeymoon, a week-long trip to Paris. The only problem with this is that Daichi is going with Sugawara Koushi, his best friend, his best man, and the person who knows him through and through.Who is in deep, pure, unforgiving love, with Daichi.Suga takes Daichi around Paris, the city he fell in love with all those years ago, trying to avoid feelings and thoughts, but Daichi begins to wonder…...has he always been in love with Suga, too?Or, Suga and Daichi go on what was supposed to be a honeymoon. Suga is pining over Daichi but takes him all over Paris. Daichi realizes that he’s maybe been in love with Suga all this time.For Daisuga Week 2020
Relationships: Michimiya Yui/Sawamura Daichi, Sawamura Daichi & Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 105





	you told me that you fell in love with it, hadn’t gone as I planned.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pepper_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepper_Moon/gifts).



> TW: Hints of suicidal thoughts. It’s implied but it’s there.
> 
> Title from “Hidden In the Sand” by Tally Hall!
> 
> Welcome to my hellfic, which I started less than two weeks ago, because I thought I had more time before Daisuga Week. Sorry I didn’t make one for every day! Here is my monstrosity.
> 
> roommates/museum/mythology/sweet/3am/3pm/matching
> 
> I’d like to say that I do not hate Michimiya. She’s a sweet character, she’s really badass, and she’s really cool. I just like Daisuga more than their ship, and honestly, I couldn’t come up with a reasonable alternative s/o for Daichi without having to reverse the roles. Or make an OC, which I suck at doing. I don’t hate Michimiya!!!!!!!!!!!!! And you shouldn’t either!
> 
> The prompt words barely apply, I used them as a way to decide where they went in Paris. So, um, here. My attempt at slow burn and angst.
> 
> Thanks to my beta reader, Midnightswordsdance, for the prompt, and for helping me out at like 11 at night when I’m having a crisis. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - you’re a godsend. You should check out her SEVENTEEN stuff because she’s literally amazing.
> 
> Dedicated to Pepper_Moon (Mereibitch) because they’re literally amazing and they answered literally all of my dms on tumblr when I asked. They’re amazing. Please read Mystery Guy, they’re so amazing at writing humor.
> 
> Anyway, 8.5k+ of angst and maybe some fluff. Let’s do this :)
> 
> Edit: Yes I did repost this. I forgot to add a trigger warning, plus I found some kind of major edits that I wanted to add. Sorry!

Daichi Sawamura never dreamed that he’d ever get left at the altar.

Getting left at the altar was something that was only supposed to happen in books and movies. Not to him. Something dramatic, with a whole speech, with the guests exclaiming with scandalous gasps.

Unfortunately for Daichi, however, Michimiya Yui wasn’t a person to do clichés. It was part of why Daichi was so enraptured by her in the first place. The two sat next to each other in their classes back in junior high, and Daichi was constantly amazed by her leadership and her confidence. How she constantly strode to be the best. He’d shyly offered her a bit of candy one day and she’d accepted, asked his name, and whether or not he’d like to be friends.

And they’d been close ever since.

They discovered they had quite a bit in common. They both loved volleyball. They both liked historical fiction and chocolate and watching old movies. They were both natural leaders and they were both smart and they both had younger siblings.

They remained friends throughout junior high and their first and second years of high school, and it was then when Daichi realized he may or may not have had a crush on her. Why not? She was cool. She was smart. And they were friends. But he’d kept quiet.

Michimiya wasn’t like anyone. She was open about being bisexual. She chopped most of her hair off halfway through their first year of high school. She slapped a boy who was teasing one of the girls on the volleyball team. She answered all of her confessions with heartfelt letters that somehow left the giver with happy smiles and nothing but affection despite getting rejected.

They were both made captains of their school’s volleyball team in their third year. They went through highs and lows together. When college applications rolled around they had studied together. When he got accepted into his top choice, Michimiya was one of the first people he had called. And an hour later, she’d called him back, screaming that she’d got into the same university.

They’d started dating in their third year of college. Daichi had been plucking up the courage to ask her out for months, but she’d beat him to it, asking him point-blank if he wanted to date her. He nearly fell out of his chair.

Two years later, Daichi proposed to her. And she said yes.

Yui Michimiya surprised him and amazed him every day of his fucking life. His friends joked that he worshiped the ground she stepped on. And maybe he did. He was excited to marry her, and every day he wondered if it were too good to be true.

But a week before the wedding, she’d surprised him one last time. And it wasn’t a cliche. It wasn’t dramatic. There wasn’t a speech. There were no scandalized gasps. He wasn’t even at the altar.

He could remember it perfectly. He was at the venue, surrounded by his groomsmen, in a somewhat casual bachelor party, a week before the wedding. Suga, his best man, who looked worn out and tired, but was beaming all the same. Asahi, grinning, his hair tied loosely back, relaxed and happy. His brother, singing at the top of his lungs, his bangs messy. Kuroo, howling his stupid laugh with a grin on his face, as Bokuto roared, his face bright and split into a huge beam.

It was **3 AM** when she called him. Trapped in an unassuming moment surrounded by all of his best friends. He was happy. Flying high on the giddy feeling that in a week from now, he was going to be married to the most stunning woman he had ever met. And he was smiling as he picked up the phone.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?” He asked cheerfully, expecting nothing.

“I can’t do this.”

He motioned for his brother and Kuroo to shut up, drawing a finger across his throat vehemently. “What was that?”

“I said, I can’t do this,” she repeated. Her voice was flat. Determined. Confident. As she always was.

He froze.

Did his heart stop beating? Did his blood freeze? Did the air want to suffocate him, or was it just those awful, terrible words clouding up his brain? 

“What do you mean, you can’t do this?” He asked, sitting up in his chair. _Please don’t be that. Please say that she’s just having jitters or something happened. Not that. Anything but that._

His friends stopped and stared at him. His brother switched off the music. It was almost as if they knew what was about to be said to him. 

“I can’t get married to you, Daichi.”

The words were straight to the point. Precise. 

And with that, something inside him snapped. A swift, clean break, as if he watched his heart fall to the ground and shatter into two pieces like thin porcelain.

As if that wasn’t enough, as if his heart didn’t just break, as if she wasn’t the one to let it fall to the ground and shatter as she watched, she kept on talking. “I’ve been lying to myself and to you for too long. I don’t think I can do this, Daichi. It’s not you, I swear. It’s me.”

Each word seemed to pierce his lungs like a just-sharpened blade. He gripped his phone tightly. _If not me, then what is it? Was it always there, or is it just now? What made you call me now? What made you wait? Is it a who? Why? Why, why, why, Yui?_

“I feel like I’ve lied to you every moment of my life. And I love you. I just don’t think you love the real me.”

Another crack. “Yui, no, please don’t say that.” He pleaded. “Please. I do love you. Why would I propose if I didn’t love you? Why would - fuck, Yui, I love you. Please.”

Michimiya was silent for a moment. And then she spoke up.

“Daichi,” she said softly. “What’s my favorite color?”

He inhaled shakily. The knives tore his lungs, and he shook like a leaf clinging to the last wisps of summer.

“Powder blue,” he answered. _Like your bag in your second year. The plush toy whale that sits on the couch._

“What’s my favorite drink?” She asked. Her voice was quiet. Caring. And laced with a thousand apologies that did nothing to soothe his aching chest.

Another shaky inhale, and a sigh, both accompanied by a burning ache. “Coffee. Margarita if we’re out.” _Like those times with our friends when your cheeks flushed and your laughter filled the room. Like early morning days when I tried to make breakfast and you laughed at me for burning the eggs._

“What’s my favorite book?”

“1984. George Orwell.”

She sighed, which sounded as if she were carrying millions of kilograms of weight on her shoulders.

“Daichi,” she said. “My favorite color is red. I like iced tea and beer. My favorite book is IT by Stephen King. And you’re only wrong because I’ve lied to you about everything because I thought you wouldn’t like me otherwise.”

Daichi didn’t know what to say. “Michimiya…”

“You don’t love me, Daichi. You love this - this version of me that I’ve created. I don’t act myself around you. And I’m sorry. I never meant it to go this far.”

And then she hung up.

For a moment, he just sat there and listened to the beeping dial tone.

And then he dropped the phone.

* * *

Suga cursed and chucked the phone across the room, where it landed on the pillow of the other bed with a flump. He groaned.

Asahi’s head popped up from behind the bed, Bokuto’s soon to follow. “What happened?” Asahi asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

Suga puffed his cheeks up and blew them out with a huff. “I can’t cancel the honeymoon.”

“The whole thing?” Daichi’s younger brother, Akira, asked, his long bangs falling into his face as he poked his head into the room.

Suga ran a hand through his hair. “The plane tickets, the hotel, most of the events I scheduled, none of it. They have absolutely insane cancellations fees, or they don’t have refunds.”

“Shit, man. That sucks,” said Kuroo, who was lounging on the floor, looking at his phone.

“You’re kidding. None of it?” Asahi picked up Suga’s phone gingerly and handed it to Suga.

“None of it.”

“Well, shit.” Akira sat up slightly. “You’re not getting charged for it, are you?”

“No, it’s all to Daichi’s account, but I really don’t want that stressing him out right now, especially since...fuck!” he swore, punching the headboard before flopping back on the pillows.

Akira sat down next to him. “What’s gonna happen? Are we just not going to do anything about it?”

Suga threw an arm over his forehead. It wasn’t hard to figure out what happened to Daichi, though he had said nothing. Suga had been sitting right next to him, and it wasn’t hard to hear what Michimiya was saying, however rude it might have been. He saw the look in Daichi’s eyes, the exact moment when something inside him seemed to snap. He saw how the phone fell out of Daichi’s hand, and how his face crumpled, and how he sobbed. Sobbed hard enough to fill rivers and oceans of tears. Hard enough that it soaked the front of Suga’s shirt as he held his best friend’s body close. Hard enough to twist Suga’s own heart, that it still hurt for the man who seemed to have turned into a boy once again, fragile as if he was made of paper-thin glass.

And yet there was a voice in the back of his head that seemed to whisper, _I would never treat you like that if I had you._

He pushed the thought away with a grimace.

“How’s Daichi doing?” Bokuto propped his head on the other bed, looking somber. His hair was ungelled and it fell limply on his forehead, which almost made Suga want to laugh, but he didn’t.

“He’s...hanging in there.” The words tasted bitter.

“He’s not crying anymore, but he won’t talk to anyone.” Akira’s forehead was scrunched with worry. “Not even Mom.”

“He looks broken,” Asahi murmured.

Kuroo had set aside his phone, his face contorted into furious vexation. “That fucking Michimiya,” he spat.

Suga couldn’t help but agree, but he shoved it aside. He sat up. “That’s not the point,” he said sternly. “The point is Daichi. He’s the thing that matters most right now, so his happiness and health are the priority.” 

“Right.” Akira sat up as well, set with determination, even if his face still had the slight roundness of a 13-year-old.

“But how can we help Daichi if he’s not even talking to us?” Bokuto asked, sounding sour.

“What’s a way we can cheer him up?” Kuroo asked.

Suga shrugged, with his chest heavy with regret. “Daichi was so looking forward to the honeymoon,” he sighed. “He talked for hours about sightseeing and the food, all with Yui.”

Asahi sat up suddenly. “Suga,” he said excitedly. “That’s it!”

Suga looked at him, aghast. “Asahi, how is a honeymoon with Yui supposed to help right now? He’s not—”

“No!” Asahi said impatiently. “Daichi wanted to go on the honeymoon, right? So he should go on the honeymoon, without Michimiya. That’ll cheer him up, right?”

Kuroo tilted his head. “That’s a pretty good idea, actually.”

Suga shook his head, doubtful. “Daichi shouldn’t be on his own right now, plus part of why they decided to go to Paris was because Yui speaks French—”

“Suga, you should go with him!” Bokuto grinned triumphantly.

“Yeah, Suga should go!” Akira chimed in.

Suga shook his head again, this time with vehemence. “I couldn’t—”

“You speak French, don’t you?” Asahi asked.

Suga didn’t respond. He did speak French, yes. But the idea of being in some foreign country, with Daichi, the boy he’s loved since forever, for a week, on the honeymoon he was supposed to go on with his wife. And despite his utter sorrow and his pain as he saw Daichi shatter before his eyes, he still felt a tiny flame of hope, which he’d long since stamped out because he was in love with Daichi.

“I couldn’t,” he said weakly.

* * *

Apparently, he could, because in just a week, Suga found himself dragging a suitcase across the street, packed with clothes and travel books, dressed comfortably in a sweatshirt and jeans. For Paris. 

Daichi had been living with his mother ever since Michimiya happened - their shared apartment was still packed with Michimiya’s things, and she was going to move out this week. Suga hadn’t seen him since he left the venue a few days ago. 

And now, standing outside Daichi’s old childhood home, he felt fourteen again, nervous about going to his new friend’s house for the first time. He inhaled, then exhaled slowly, and knocked on the door.

Daichi’s mother opened the door, and she sighed in relief at the sight of him. “Koushi,” she said and opened her arms to wrap him into a hug. 

“Sawamura-san,” he greeted, hugging her tightly. “How’s Daichi?”

She released him and gave him a long, searching look. “Better. He’s bringing his things down, he should be—”

“Suga.”

Suga glanced up at the nickname. 

Daichi set down his suitcase at the bottom of the stairs, his face tired, his eyes hollow, but it was Daichi, and Suga almost felt like melting in relief. “Hi,” he said, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Daichi offered him a weak smile. “Hi,” he said.

“Oh, good, Daichi.” Sawamura-san reached out to take her son’s arm. “C’mon now, I’ll drive you to the airport.”

And so Suga found himself loading the suitcases into the car and buckling himself into the backseat behind Daichi’s mother. Daichi sat next to him, his eyes still dull, and his body limp as he looked out the window of the car as they left the old house behind.

Suga sighed, for the millionth time, it seemed.

And yet, once they turned the corner, Suga felt something warm taking his hand and squeezing it gently. He looked down, surprised. Daichi’s hand was grasping his, but he still looked out the window, as if nothing was happening.

Suga felt his face flush, but he looked away.

They stayed that way the whole car ride.

* * *

Suga couldn’t help but beam as he left Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Their flight had landed at 3 PM, but it was nearly 4 as they walked out, and Suga could breathe in Paris, for the first time in years.

He’d been trying to look too happy. Just to be sensitive about how Daichi was feeling. Daichi’s face had barely moved from the flat, hollow expression he’d been wearing since early morning. Could Suga blame him? Of course not. He just wished that Daichi’s face would break into that stupid grin of his, or even cry, or look angry or irritated. The expressionless look on his face was sad - and almost scary - to look at.

So Suga made sure to tread carefully, especially regarding the bubbly giddiness that was slowly rising in his chest. Because he was back in Paris, after all! The city of lights, where he had spent a good semester abroad back in University, where he’d made some of his happiest memories in a tiny flat shared with two other students. _God._ A smile slowly spread across his face, but he mentally slapped himself. _Remember Daichi,_ he scolded. 

But he couldn’t help but feel excited. To sightsee and visit all of the hole-in-the-wall places he’d discovered in the depths of this city, tucked away into quiet corners, to eat his favorites, to breathe in the city, and just see _Paris,_ the city he had fallen in love with years before. _And,_ a tiny voice whispered, _it’s all with Daichi._

He bit his lip, and turned to Daichi, to ask him how he was doing, expecting to see that blank look on his face. To his surprise, Daichi was looking at him, his head tilted, and with the tiniest of smiles on his face. Suga nearly swooned, the idea of which he shoved into the back of his mind, but nothing could have stopped the pure relief that flooded him. He was smiling. 

“C’mon, let’s get to the hotel. We can rest a bit before we eat,” Suga said invitingly, taking Daichi’s arm and leading him past the crowds of people outside the airport. To his relief, Daichi smiled a little wider, and he let himself be led away, dragging his suitcase behind him.

* * *

Daichi couldn’t help but notice how Suga’s eyes seemed to dance as he looked around at the city surrounding him. He wasn’t quite smiling, per se, but his eyes were bright, and they bounced from window to window as their taxi passed by building after building. His lips twitched up, but he quickly forced himself into a frown.

Daichi’s mind kept on turning back to Michimiya. His heart felt heavy as if it were made of lead, and doing things felt like trying to walk through quicksand. Growing more tired by the second, and feeling like you’re about to slowly sink under.

_How long were you thinking like this? From when we started dating, Yui? Was it me?_

Heavy feelings of guilt seemed to wrap around his heart, weighing him down. Pure, sickening, _guilt._

_If it was me, Yui, what could I have done for you? How could I have helped you?_

_Are you happier without me?_

_Do you even miss me at all?_

Next to him, Suga sighed.

Daichi glanced at him.

Daichi didn’t really know when he started noticing all of the little things that Suga did. He felt like he’d been doing it forever. Suga was just...captivating. He took up Daichi’s attention. Ever since they’d first met. He was a mysterious boy with brilliant smiles and quick thinking. But the two were fast friends, and behind magnetic smiles was a mischievous boy with sharp wittiness and an almost goofy attitude.

Suga hadn’t changed much - he was still good old Suga, stubborn and smart and oh-so-charming. And yet, Daichi had figured some of him out, if not all. How he bit his lip when he was concentrating or when he was trying not to laugh. How his laugh turned up when he was hiding something. How his lips curled up when he was plotting something. How he tapped his fingers together when he was nervous.

Right now was one of his tells—when he was pretending that he wasn’t excited. The forced frown, his dancing eyes, how his fingers were fiddling in his lap.

Daichi had heard an abundance of stories of Suga’s time in Paris. All of the little restaurants he’d gone to. His flatmates and how funny they were. His teachers, the Seine, the museums he’d visited. And how someday, he would go back and visit it all.

And seeing Suga speak French in that quick tongue of his, in a pronounced, sweet accent, it was almost...fascinating? He had chatted with the taxi driver a little, and they had both laughed, leaving Daichi clueless but amused. Suga spoke French in a way that was both sharp and yet smooth and full of rolling tones that almost left Daichi dizzy. Yui—

_Yui…_

God.

He wondered what Yui was doing right now. Was she packing her things? What would she take with her? How much would be left behind? Was she happy that she had left him? Or was she regretful?

His mind kept on circling back to her, no matter how hard he tried not to. Life with Yui was a perfect orbit, and yet with her gone, he was lost in space.

He pinched himself. _You’re here to have fun with your best friend, not to mope around about your ex,_ he scolded himself. He glanced at Suga, who was pursing his lips now, deep dimples on either side of his mouth. His eyes were still dancing. Daichi almost smiled. “You don’t have to pretend that you’re not excited.”

Suga’s eyes flashed in surprise for a split second, before he composed himself. “I’m not,” he said stubbornly.

Daichi sighed and tilted his head at Suga with what he hoped was an imploring look. “C’mon.”

Suga’s lips trembled, but he forced them into a frown.

Daichi glanced out the window, where roofed buildings made of worn stone ran past, with windows surrounded by wrought-iron balconies. 

He didn’t like seeing Suga forcing himself to be unhappy. He liked seeing smiles light up his entire face, not just staying in his eyes while his mouth was a frown. 

An idea popped into his head. He turned back to Suga. “Have you been around here before?” He asked, gesturing out the window. 

Suga’s eyes unfolded into a dance. “Yes,” he answered. “I think I had drinks at that bar down there, with a few other peers...and I’ve been there, too. Oh! That restaurant was really good, they had excellent _blanquette de veau…_ ”

And for the first time in a while, Daichi let out a laugh. Suga’s excitement was almost contagious, despite a week of Daichi feeling like he was drowning in thick sludge. Smiling with Suga was like walking ankle-deep in ocean water with gentle waves lapping at his feet.

“It’s nearly dinnertime,” he said. “Where do you want to go?”

Suga’s lips twitched up again. “What are you in the mood for?” He asked, with attempted nonchalance.

“Your pick.”

And Suga’s face broke into a smile.

* * *

“And there’s this fantastic place with _beef bourguignon,_ called _La Cochonnaille,_ and it’s not too pricey, so—” Suga unlocked the room of the hotel, chattering away. “—that’s definitely an option. Dai?” Suga turned to Daichi, his cheeks flushed.

Daichi stared into the suite, apprehension written all over his face. “There’s only one bed.”

Suga swiveled around to look. So it was. A large, queen size bed, in the middle of the room. His face fell. “Oh shit. I forgot. I’m so sorry, Daichi, we can ask—”

Daichi immediately felt a rush of guilt. “It’s fine, Suga. This whole trip has been a little last minute, it’s totally fine that you forgot.”

Suga’s eyes fell on a couch tucked into the corner of the room. “I’ll just sleep on the couch, then.”

Daichi shook his head furiously, shutting the door closed. “No, you won’t. I will.”

“It’s your trip, Daichi—”

“No, it’s ours.”

Suga rolled his eyes. “I’ll sleep on the couch, Dai, it’s fine, I’ve done it before.”

“So have I.” Daichi crossed his arms.

“So what? You’re the one—”

Daichi cut him off. “If you pull the ‘you got left at the altar’ card, then I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Suga fell silent. Daichi cringed inwardly. _Yikes._

“Okay, fine,” he gave in. “We’ll alternate. One day I’ll sleep on the couch, then you will. Happy?”

Suga’s face quirked into his mischievous grin. “I call the first night.”

Daichi raised his eyebrows. 

Suga arched one of his own, then he dragged his suitcase into the room.

* * *

Daichi normally didn’t remember his dreams.

Sometimes he’d wake up feeling annoyed, or excited, or freaked out. But most of the time, dreams to him are like wisps of smoke, something his mind tries to grasp onto as he slowly wakes up, but his clenched hands come away empty, and soon the smoke fades away.

But for some reason, this morning, his mind has been able to cling to the dream, and he lies in his bed for a moment, turning it over in his head. Michimiya was there. Shouting things he couldn’t hear, for she was in their apartment, and he was on the Eiffel Tower. He had shouted back until his throat was hoarse, but Michimiya was fading away.

And he had leaned over the railing, still calling her name, but someone behind him laid a hand on his shoulder. He had turned around. And there was Suga. Looking like Normal, Happy Suga, not Tired, Pre-Wedding Suga. Dream Suga was laughing, and he tugged at Daichi’s arm. And when he spoke, his words were clear, like fresh, cool water breaking over his face. “Daichi,” he sang, and Daichi turned to smile at him, and Suga was leading him away by the arm, beaming.

Now, staring at the ceiling of the hotel room, he wondered what it all meant.

He sat up slowly, blinking at the light that was slowly creeping up to his face through the curtains. He nearly scowled at it. Normally, he liked waking up early, but the past week or so felt like walking through sludge. 

He wondered if Michimiya felt the same. _Guilty_

He wondered if it was all his fault that she left. _Guilty._

He wondered if she even missed him. _Guilty._

_Was it all my fault? Could I have done something to make her stay? Should I have paid more attention to her? I’d give her anything, I’d give Yui everything—_

“Oh, you’re awake.”

He blinked a few times. Suga was sitting on the couch, his computer in his lap, his legs crossed. He had his blue light glasses on. Daichi felt as if his stomach was flipped on its head at the sight of him, although he didn’t understand why.

“You’re already up?” Daichi’s voice was scratchy. From what he remembered, he always had woken up before Suga, throughout their time when they shared an apartment through university as well as the times in training camps in high school.

Suga shrugged. “Jet lag.”

“What time is it?” Daichi flopped back onto his pillows.

“Almost eight.”

Daichi added up the hours in his head. For the first time in a while, he had slept almost nine hours. “How long have you been up?”

Suga hummed. “Since about 3:30. I couldn’t sleep, so I’ve been answering some emails.”

Daichi sat up again. “Suga, we got back to the hotel at 11.”

“So?” Suga made a face, not even glancing up from his computer screen.

Daichi closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, he let out a laugh.

It felt almost wrong to laugh. Almost as if it were stolen from his breath.

“What?” Suga looked up at him, his glasses slipping down his nose.

“It’s kind of like we’re **roommates** again. Waking up really early. Asking each other when we woke up and then scolding each other when we do.”

Suga chuckled, setting aside his computer. Daichi groaned, then swung his legs out of bed. “Alright, so what are we doing today?”

“We’re going to the Louvre later today, but the rest of the day is free until 4ish.”

Daichi nodded slowly. “What about breakfast?” he yawned.

Suga beamed. “Are you up for a bit of a walk? There’s a great place a little ways away with the most _amazing_ crepes.”

Daichi allowed himself a smile. It was always so _easy_ to smile around Suga. “Sounds great.”

* * *

Daichi hummed slightly as he stared at the crowd of people around the Mona Lisa, bustling and pushing and taking photos.

“Don’t understand the hype?” Suga stood next to Daichi.

“Not really,” Daichi admitted, craning his neck to look at the rest of the paintings that hung on the white walls guarded by velvet rope dividers. “I’m not a big fan of museums.”

Suga stifled a laugh. “Well, Dai, you’re in possibly the most famous **museum** in the world, looking at _probably_ the most famous painting.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t equate to the fact that people only buy tickets to this place to see it.”

“Maybe not.” Suga shrugged. “This building was originally built as a fortress, you know.”

“Really?”

“It was reconstructed to be a royal palace in the 1500s. It only became a museum in the 18th century.”

“How do you know this stuff?” Daichi asked, slightly intrigued.

Suga flashed a grin. “It was on the back of the pamphlet I took out front.” 

Daichi managed a tiny chuckle. 

* * *

The dream was back. Yui was there, shouting at him, and Daichi was shouting back.

But Suga was there again. Grasping his shoulder. Singing his name. Daichi felt himself smile again. Suga beamed at him. Cheerful, relaxed, smiling Suga, who laughed at him and reached for his arm and led him away from the railing.

He woke up on the couch. Suga was still asleep on the bed.

He fell back asleep.

* * *

“Say that again,” Suga demanded.

Daichi looked at his best friend, slightly intimidated. “Why?” 

Suga hit Daichi’s shoulder. “Say it again, idiot!”

Daichi winced. It was late in the day - the sun was low in the sky and it was slightly.

“I’ve never had crème brûlée before?”

Suga’s eyes widened, aghast. “You’re _insane,_ ” he hissed. “You mean to tell me that you’re in _Paris,_ in _France,_ and you simply neglected to mention that you’ve never had crème brûlée before?”

“Maybe?” Daichi grinned nervously, unsure if smiling or backing away was the better option. “Why?”

Suga tsked. “C’mon. Get up,” he ordered, gesturing.

Daichi stood tentatively. “Why?”

“We’re getting crème brûlée, obviously. C’mon.”

“ _Je voudrais une crème brûlée, un éclair et un croissant au chocolat, s'il vous plaît,_ ” Suga requested in his quick French. Daichi watched, slightly amazed, as the gray-haired woman behind the counter glanced up, and let out a scream of delight. Suga let out a laugh. “ _vous souvenez-vous de moi?_ ” He asked.

The woman leapt to her feet and started firing off question after question, with sharp and scolding French, all with a happy beam on her face. Suga answered each one, grinning from ear to ear. 

Daichi looked at him fondly. It wasn’t unlike Suga to have everyone fall in love with him wherever he went.

After several minutes of rapid-fire French, it slowed slightly, and Suga turned and gestured for Daichi to join his side. The woman looked him up and down, and said something that made Suga laugh, enough to fill the tiny bakery with to sound. “She says you’re very well built,” he informed Daichi. His face flushed, which made both Suga and the woman burst into laughter.

Twenty minutes later, Suga and Daichi were sitting next to each other at a table crammed with sweets. “So she knows you?” Daichi asked.

Suga beamed. “I was always here whenever I had a little extra cash. Madame Garnier is the best.” Suga nudged a ramekin towards Daichi. He cupped it with a hand and picked up a spoon with the other. It was covered with a burnt golden-brown sugar. He stared at it, a little apprehensive.

“It’s good. It’s a little like purin,” Suga encouraged. Daichi frowned lightly, but he scooped up a bit and tasted it tentatively.

“Good?” Suga asked.

 _Oh,_ wow.

 **Sweet** , creamy, pudding-like goodness settled on his tongue, combined with a flavor that seemed to fill his mouth with a subtle sugary taste. The texture of the layer of caramelized sugar hit the room of his mouth, combined with the silky-smooth sweetness of the custard. The rich cream mixed with the almost smoky-sugar flavor.

He groaned.

Suga’s cheeks flushed pink, but he laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Suga leaned over the table for a taste.

* * *

Daichi was dreaming again.

Michimiya was there again, but she was already fading away. He was shouting at her again. Leaning over the railing from the Eiffel Tower. He felt as if he were slipping away…

And now he was falling.

Where was Suga? Was Suga there to catch him? To smile and laugh and lead him away?

Daichi woke up just as he was about to hit the ground.

He sat up, gasping. Inhaling for _air._ Where was Suga?

Guilt, heavy guilt, seemed to weigh him down. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t ask for help.

_Where are you now, Yui? Are you happier without me?_

“Daichi?”

Daichi swiveled his head around. _There he is._ Suga was sitting up on the couch, his hair mussed and blinking blearily at him. Slowly, Daichi took in his surroundings. He was on the bed. In a hotel. In Paris. With Suga.

“Suga,” he gasped out.

Suga blinked at him. “You’re shaking,” he said slowly. “What happened. Are you okay?”

“Suga,” he repeated, and then hot tears began streaming down his face. Why was he crying? He felt lost. Drowning in a wild ocean that tossed his heart like a rag doll. Instantly, Suga was at his side.

“Daichi, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

He clung to the words like a liferaft. _He’s here. He’s here._

_He’s here._

He started breathing again. Slow, shaky breaths that seemed to make him so very tired.

Suga held him close for a moment, then pulled away slightly. “What happened?”

Daichi inhaled. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something,” Suga said sternly. 

Daichi sighed.

“I had a dream. About Yui.” Something told him not to mention that Suga was usually in the dream, though he didn’t know why, and he was thinking of adding that on, but Suga had already enveloped him in another hug.

“Oh, Daichi,” he sighed.

And the two sat there for a moment. Holding each other. Daichi felt something warm stirring inside him - it wasn’t quite happy, but calm. Sweet.

_Content._

He closed his eyes and leaned into Suga’s arms.

 _I could get used to this,_ he thought to himself.

“Koushi,” he said, his voice low.

Suga inhaled slightly at the use of his first name, but he hummed softly in acknowledgment.

“Could you maybe...sleep next to me?” Daichi whispered.

Suga exhaled slowly, and Daichi thought he would say no, or maybe leave Daichi in that vast, awkward void between a question and an answer.

But he nodded, and Daichi moved over to the side, and Suga slipped under the blankets.

Daichi didn’t really know why he did it - but he turned over on his side to face to face Suga. Suga blinked at him. 

Daichi pressed his forehead to Suga’s and closed his eyes.

It took a while, but eventually, Suga’s breathing evened, and they fell asleep, their foreheads still touching.

They didn’t say anything when they woke up the next morning in each others’ arms.

* * *

They didn’t say anything later that night, either.

Daichi just looked at Suga, and Suga’s eyes softened and he patted the space on the bed next to him.

They fell asleep next to each other and woke up with their arms tangled and their faces less than an inch apart.

And yet, they still did not say anything.

* * *

There he was on the Eiffel Tower again.

Michimiya was there, but she was already fading away in the mist, miles from him. Daichi leaned over the railing, screaming for her.

And he felt himself falling…

But someone grabbed his hand? Someone caught him. They were pulling him up and to his feet.

_Suga._

“Daichi,” he sang, in a scolding yet playful tone. “Be more careful, okay? Don’t go falling for someone who’s already jumped.”

 _But what does that mean?_ Daichi wanted to ask, but Suga was taking his arm and leading him away from the railing, and he was smiling.

“C’mon, it’s taken us long enough. We’re already late!” Suga pulled at his arm, beaming.

“Late for what?” He asked.

But the smoke was already gone from his grasp.

* * *

It was the next day when the two were getting lunch at some tiny stand, where Suga chattered away with the owner, who appeared to recognize him. They were laughing. Suga’s face was lit up, and his silver hair shone in the bright midday sunshine and his eyes were dancing.

He wanted to be the reason Suga smiled like that.

And for a fleeting moment, Daichi wondered what would happen if he kissed Suga, pressed his lips to his, if he cupped the silver-haired man’s face in his hands, if Suga would push him away or if he would return it.

He wondered if Suga would smile.

He shut his eyes and willed the thoughts to go away, but they persisted.

* * *

“There’s a funny little **myth** attached to this bridge.” Suga said softly. Daichi stared into the water. They were at the Pont des Arts, which was a famous bridge, according to Suga. Daichi didn’t quite see the significance, but Suga looked so focused and engaged, it was easy to believe him

Daichi made a noise in the back of his throat, acknowledging.

“Less of a myth, I guess. People used to buy locks and keys here. They’d attach the lock to the bridge and throw the key into the water, to symbolize their love.” 

Daichi’s eyes dropped to look at the glass covered with art that blocked him from the shifting water.

“Used to?” He asked.

Suga sighed softly. “They took them off. They were weighing down the bridge. 700,000 locks, I heard.”

“Wow.” Daichi stared into the water again. “Kind of sad, isn’t it?”

Suga nodded. “But it’s not like the love ends.” He tilted his head back. “In the end...it’s just a lock.”

Daichi didn’t respond. 

* * *

They were sitting in their hotel room, on the bed. Suga was flipping through a book with a slight frown on his face.

“We should start packing a little,” he hummed. “We’re leaving in two days.”

Daichi nodded, only half paying attention. Part of it was because he was tired - he still hadn’t been sleeping well. But Suga was just so...mesmerizing, to look at.

“I didn’t really realize how much I _missed_ Paris. I love Sendai, and I love teaching, but if I were rich, I’d buy a flat and spend all my summers here,” Suga sighed, then laughed. “Such a fantasy.”

 _If I were rich,_ Daichi thought to himself. _I’d buy you a flat with a rooftop garden and a view of the river, just to see you smile._

“Daichi?” Suga asked, tilting his head to the side.

“You’re so _perfect,_ ” Daichi breathed.

Suga froze. 

Daichi reached out to tuck a stray lock of silver hair behind Suga’s ear.

“Could I…” he whispered. “Could I kiss you?”

Suga’s eyes widened. For a moment, Daichi thought he’d say no.

But he nodded.

Daichi leaned forward.

He was running his hands through Suga’s hair, breathing in the scent of sweet vanilla, tasting Suga’s lips as he pressed into him, wanting more, more, more. 

And he was kissing Suga.

And Suga was kissing him back.

It was soft at first. Gentle, sweet. Tentative. Suga felt like a delicate flower, with silky-smooth petals and a sweet, intoxicating scent, blossoming at Daichi’s touch. But when Suga didn’t pull away, Daichi’s lips became more insistent. And so did Suga’s. Koushi’s hand was on his thigh and the other lacing his neck with the ghost of a touch as gentle as a butterfly, and Daichi shivered as Suga’s cool fingers met his skin and sent shivers down his spine.

Daichi wanted to be closer. He wanted Suga closer.

Kissing Suga was like riding on a wave so high it sent his thoughts buzzing and his blood rushing and his brain whirring. Kissing Koushi was like an intoxicating rainbow of emotions caught in a bottle and Daichi was drinking it like water in an expanse of desert sands. Kissing Koushi was like opening his soul and his heart and throwing the key into the depths of a churning river, never to be seen again.

He pulled away slightly, and Suga leaned forward with him, inhaling with a gasp. “Koushi,” he whispered to this breathtaking enigma of a man in front of him, their lips a millisecond apart.

Koushi exhaled with a groan bordering on lustful. “God, you’re so—” and Koushi was kissing him again, with electrifying touches that sent Daichi reeling.

“Koushi, Koushi, Koushi,” he murmured into his lips. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of that smooth blank canvas of porcelain skin. He wanted to drink in the taste of Koushi’s lips. He wanted Koushi.

Koushi pulled away with a gasp. “Daichi,” he moaned. “Dai, I—”

Daichi caught his lips with his, but Koushi pushed him away. “I can’t. I really can’t,” he said breathlessly.

He drew his hands away, and Koushi pulled out of his reach, curling away from his touch.

Daichi watched as the flower wilted in front of his eyes.

“Did I do something?” He asked helplessly.

“Dai—” Suga’s voice caught. “This isn’t healthy. For you or for me.”

“Why not?” He asked desperately.

“You’re still hurting, Daichi. I can feel it. You’re still clinging to her.” Suga sounded pained. “There’s no other reason why you wake up with nightmares about her. And I don’t want to be some sort of - some rebound for you.”

“But you’re not!” Daichi reached out to touch him, to hold him close, but Suga recoiled.

“Don’t touch me!” Suga’s voice reached a shout. “It’s not fair for you to - for you to play with my feelings like this!”

_Playing...?_

_Oh._

“You...like me?” Daichi asked, slowly.

Suga huffed out an irritated laugh. “Like you? Daichi. I’ve been in love with you _forever._ ”

_Forever..._

“Koushi...”

Suga shook his head vehemently. “No. Don’t call me that.”

“...I think I’m in love with you, too.”

Suga’s eyes watered, but he shook his head again. “No,” he said again. “I’m going for a walk. And please don’t follow me until you think things through some more.”

And he left Daichi’s side, and he was alone.

* * *

At first, Daichi was left disoriented and confused. He felt more lost than he had ever felt.

He did _love_ Suga, right? It wasn’t just some sort of thing he had twisted in his mind, right? Not something he’d created in Michimiya’s absence?

No, he decided. Suga was someone he seemed to have loved forever. Suga was the one he was closest to, who knew all his secrets and his lows and highs. The boy he’d met when they were still stupid teenagers, not knowing the difference between love and crushes and not even caring. They were always at each others’ sides, always together, always supporting each other. Yui was like a receding tide - sometimes there, sometimes not, but Suga was a constant, never-wavering presence. It wasn’t at all surprising that he had fallen for this stunning man.

And still, his mind returned to Michimiya. Her small smiles and never-ending confidence. Her sarcasm and sharp ended words. How he looked at her and was almost blinded by how amazing she was. How thoughts spiraled around his brain, like _why_ and _was it me_ and _how long?_

Sitting by himself, he wondered if he could be in such deep, drowning love with two people at once. 

He didn’t know that Suga was in love with him. How could he? Suga had always acted like…Suga. Sure, maybe he overworked himself sometimes, and maybe he was a little salty when he was tired, but—

_Oh._

Suga was the one who was organizing most of the wedding. Suga was the one planning the honeymoon. Suga was the one who was working himself to the bone to plan this stupid wedding.

A wedding where he saw his best friend getting married.

 _“Like you? Daichi. I’ve been in love with you_ forever. _”_ Suga’s pained expression filled his mind, his teary eyes and his cheeks flushed with irritation.

_Oh, God._

He was _such_ an idiot. He _was_ playing with Suga’s feelings, even if he hadn’t realized it.

Maybe he could be in love with two people at once. But it certainly wouldn’t be fair to Koushi. It wouldn’t be fair for Daichi to still be in pain, to still be in love with Yui while being together with Suga.

_And you’re an idiot for ever thinking otherwise._

He jumped to his feet.

He needed to find Suga.

* * *

Unfortunately for Daichi, it’s quite hard to find someone in a city you know nothing about, if you don’t know the language, and you don’t know where the person is, either.

He dashed out of the hotel, looking one way, and then the other. He probably looked insane right now. He turned the corner and dashed down several streets, blind and desperate.

He crashed into someone. They swiveled around and fixed him with a glare. _“Vous étranger idiot, va t’en!_ ”

“Sorry!” He gasped out. He turned sharply on his heel. “Has anyone seen my friend? Silver hair, he’s wearing a white and black jacket and gray jeans?” He shouted into the crowd, before remembering that this French person wouldn’t understand his frantic Japanese. “Fuck!”

“Bomber jacket?” Someone responded.

He turned in a circle, once, twice, before spotting who had spoken. _Holy fucking shit thank god._ A group of several Japanese tourists were staring at him. “Yes!” He said, desperate. “Did you see him?”

One of them nodded. “I think so. He’s by the Seine.” He pointed down to the river. In the opposite direction.

Daichi exhaled a sigh of relief. He fell into a deep bow. “Thank you!” He gasped, before dashing down the street.

He quickly found himself by the river, and he slowed his dash to a brisk walking, looking around, his head whipping every which way.

And there he was.

_Suga._

Sitting on the edge of the river, looking out at the water.

Daichi slowed his pace to a walk. He sat next to him, breathing heavily.

Suga spoke first.

“How’d you find me?” he asked.

Daichi didn’t want to explain the pure luck of finding another person who spoke Japanese and happened to have seen Suga. “I’m sorry.”

Suga didn’t respond.

“It’s not fair for me to use you like that. And I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea. You’re right, I’m still not over Michimiya.” Daichi paused for a moment, sighing. “But I really do think I’m in love with you.”

Suga turned and gazed at him.

“You’ve been with me through everything. We’ve known each other since high school, Suga. And you’re such an amazing, incredible person. You’re nice to _everyone._ And everyone _loves_ you.”

Suga opened his mouth, but Daichi shook his head. “Don’t protest. It’s true.” He let out another sigh. “I think I’ve been in love with you for nearly as long as I’ve known you, but I don’t think I’ve realized it until now. And you definitely deserve better than me.” Suga opened his mouth again. Daichi shook his head again. He closed it. “And as much as I’d love to start a relationship with you, I don’t think it would be at all fair to you. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I still love Yui.”

Suga’s eyes watered, but he nodded.

Daichi sighed, for the third time. “Suga,” he said. “I think...when we get home, of course...I should probably go to therapy.”

Suga’s eyes widened slightly.

“I’m not in the right...frame of mind. I’m not over Yui and she dumped me because she thought she’d been lying to me throughout our entire relationship.” Daichi ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t slept well and I wonder if I’m the reason she left. Sometimes I think it would be so much easier to...end it all. It’s like a constant loop in my head.

“It’s not going to be easy and it’s going to take some time. I know that. I just have one question for you.”

Suga nodded. Daichi turned and gazed into Suga’s eyes, which stared back, unfaltering and hopeful. “Will you wait for me? Because you are the only thing that seems real to me right now.”

Suga’s eyes filled with tears. He wrapped his arms around Daichi. “Yes,” he choked out. “I’ll wait. However long it takes.”

And for the first time in too long, Daichi felt okay.

* * *

_Three years later..._

They stood across from each other, **matching** in both the tuxes and the pure, happy smiles they were wearing. With all their closest friends and family watching.

“Daichi. Partner in crime. My best friend, as well as my fellow parent to several _monkeys_ that somehow play volleyball.” Stifled laughter made its way through the reception. Koushi grinned but quickly choked up again, his eyes glassy. “Love of my life.”

Daichi’s eyes filled with tears and he cleared his throat.

“You say that you don’t really know how long you’ve been in love with me, it just feels like it’s been that way forever. Well.” Koushi’s face broke into a grin. “I remember when I fell in love with you. 10 years, 9 months, 3 weeks, and four days ago, when I was fifteen years old. And I remember this because I wrote it down, and I quote.” Suga cleared his throat. “‘Dear journal. Holy crap, I’m in love with Daichi.’” 

Laughter rippled its way through the seated crowd again. In the front row, Michimiya grinned

“And since it’s only gotten stronger since then. I’ve seen you grow confident and break past everyone’s expectations. I’ve seen you struggle and I’ve seen you come out of the other the side, stronger than either. And since that very day, I have only fallen in love with you more, Daichi.” Koushi’s eyes were shining. “And I promise to keep on loving you. I promise that I will be honest with you, that I will be patient and caring. And I promise to grow old with you and to always stay by your side. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

Now Daichi was really crying. Tears streaming down his face, he still smiled at Suga.

After a few moments, he spoke. “I’ve known Suga since our first year of high school, and I’ve probably been in love with him since then. Probably. As he said, I don’t know how long.” More stifled laughter. “Back then, he was - and is - probably the most stunning man I had ever met. He was confident. Smart. Sweet. Maybe a little mischievous. We got to know each other. And we stuck together. Now, eleven years later, we are still at each others’ sides.” He paused a moment more, before continuing.

“Koushi,” Daichi choked out. “Three years ago, I was going to get married. To someone that wasn’t you. And it didn’t end up working out.” He cleared his throat and blinked a few times. “I was in a really bad place then, and I would stay there for several months after that, slowly digging my way out. But you were patient. You were kind. And you supported me.

“Thank you for not getting impatient with me. Thank you for being a shoulder to cry on, and a person I can lean on and trust. Thank you for helping me through the low days. And—” Daichi’s voice caught, and he inhaled shakily. “—thank you for waiting for me through it all.”

He breathed a few times, his vision blurred. “Koushi, I promise to be faithful to you. I promise to be patient with you. To be your shoulder to cry on, to be someone you can lean on and trust. I promise to help you through your low days. And I will wait for you through it all.”

  
  
  


_And they were married._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it through to the end, I love you all.
> 
> Again, big thanks to [Midnightswordsdance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightswordsdance/profile) !!!!! Thank you! Please check her writing out!!!!!!! And another big thanks to [Pepper_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepper_Moon/pseuds/Pepper_Moon)!!!!!!!!!! They’re both amazing!!!!!!!
> 
> I got a tumblr [just-a-gay-bean](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwjE9uLa7IbsAhVEhOAKHfIsCSMQFjABegQIARAB&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjust-a-gay-bean.tumblr.com%2F&usg=AOvVaw11oenIkD-iIXdstJukAIrU) Come talk with me about Haikyuu and Enhypen
> 
> Hope you are having a lovely day, please stay safe and healthy out there my beans!
> 
> If you liked, please kudo and comment! Your comments make my day :)


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